


Because I Can Take Everything From You

by FormulaFerrari



Series: Unspoken Words [2]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormulaFerrari/pseuds/FormulaFerrari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Set after the Malaysian Grand Prix 2013*</p><p>Sometimes standing up for someone can lead to the worst scenarios...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because I Can Take Everything From You

**Author's Note:**

> I have not given this work a "Non-Consent" warning as I feel it is Dubious Consent (as displayed in the tags). However, you may disagree with me and feel this is Non-Consent. I wanted to warn you of this before you read on. Please do not read this work if consent issues are a sensitive subject to you. 
> 
> If you do read on I hope you enjoy.  
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sebastian was sitting in his room alone watching the television when he heard the commotion outside. Muffled voices calling to each other, one trying to stop the other with a pleading tone. Seb rolled his eyes and turned back to the television, relaxing back against the headboard. It had been a good day; Fernando hadn’t finished the race and he had won. To try and organise the usual celebratory Red Bull party would have been stupid tonight. Seb had just retired to his room with a bottle of champagne that Heikki and he had been sharing before the Finn left. It was only when there were three thuds on his door that Seb realised the muffled voices had stopped calling for each other. Seb turned his head towards it but before he could move it opened. 

Fernando had found some new kind of anger at the bottom of his fifth pint of beer. At that point the foul taste seized to become apparent in his mouth. Jenson had pleaded him to not come to Sebastian’s room; to just go back to Mark but it was for Mark that he had come here. Everything seemed a little hazy though and he held onto the top of a chair as he glared at Seb. Seb just seemed amused by him. 

“I thought I locked that,” Seb mused. Hekki must have left it unlocked in case he came back. Little did he know Fernando Alonso was going to use it to burst into his room. Seb sighed as Fernando looked back at the door and then back to Seb, spinning too fast and making himself feel dizzy. He held the chair tighter.

“Nope.” Fernando slurred, trying to sound not as drunk as he felt. He hated this disorienting feeling. Seb just beamed at him. 

“What do I owe the pleasure?” 

“What the fuck was that?” Fernando yelled, suddenly remembering the real reason he had come here. Seb frowned at him, looking around to check he hadn’t missed something. He hadn’t.

“Was what?” Seb asked sceptically. Fernando crossed the room and Seb sat up, letting Fernando tower over him for once. 

“Today! The race! Are you deaf?” Fernando seethed and a smirk pulled at Seb’s lips. 

“No. I heard what they wanted me to do. But Mark didn’t deserve the win. It had to be taken from him.” Within a flash Fernando hauled Seb just above the bed by his collar, anger pulsing through him. Seb continued to smile.

“You don’t have a fucking clue. The team can see more of the race than you. You have to respect what they say.” Fernando growled.

“Respect team orders?” Seb challenged and Fernando’s hold slackened a little. “You’d know all about that.” He added slyly, watching the flex of the Spaniard’s muscles as more anger puled through him. “Is that why he sent you here instead of coming himself?”

“He doesn’t know I’m here. I came myself.” Fernando said as he let go of him and folded his arms. 

“Does he not?” Seb said, sitting up on his knees. Fernando held his gaze.

“Nope.”

“Good.” Seb said, shuffling closer to Fernando. Fernando didn’t like his tone. Or his use of the word ‘good’. He swallowed nervously. 

“Good?” his voice broke on the small word. Seb placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah. I’ll let him know where you are.” Seb said. He pushed his hand into Fernando’s jean pocket and withdrew his phone. Fernando took a step backwards but Seb gripped his shoulder tighter.

“Does not matter. Am going now.” Fernando said in a shaky voice. Sebastian shook his head, keeping his eyes on the phone.

“You’re not going anywhere.” With a much clearer head, Sebastian was quickest to the door when Fernando pulled out of his grip in an attempt to escape. Fernando tripped on his own foot and found himself sprawled on the floor, the sickening feeling in his throat burning momentarily. Fernando hated this. He wanted to not have a fuzzy head. He wanted to be thinking clearly. He wanted to be able to leave if he wanted to. He heard Seb slide the lock in place and rested his forehead on the floor. 

“Smile.” Seb grinned and Fernando stupidly looked up at him. Seb took a photo of Fernando sprawled on the floor and sent it to Mark. Just to set in some panic; Mark wouldn’t be able to locate where Fernando was. Seb smiled to himself. Fernando tried to push himself off the floor but instead felt a hand dragging him backwards. He came to a halt leaning his back against the bed and he took long deep breaths. He needed some water. And without even considering who it was he accepted the glass that was put in his hands and drunk hungrily from it. It wasn’t water. Nowhere near water. His eyes darted around the room until they settled on the bottle of champagne. He made to spit it out but Seb clamped his fingers over his nose. “Swallow it.” Seb commanded. Fernando went to spit it out again so he could breath but Seb covered his mouth as well. Fernando had little choice. He swallowed reluctantly and Seb patted his head, satisfied. “Good boy.” The words cut through Fernando like ice. He hated the phrase. Hated how it demoralised him to the status of a dog. He didn’t like that. He wanted out, he wanted water. He wanted Mark. 

“Mark…” He called out, pushing himself off the floor. Just as he was on his feet the hand collided with his shoulder and he fell back onto the mattress of the bed. 

“Isn’t here.” Seb said harshly. Fernando felt the tears brewing in his eyes, his head being badly affected by the alcohol. He couldn’t work out why Mark wouldn’t be here to help him. He tried to sit up again but Seb held him down with a light hand. 

“Why…” Fernando whined, pushing Sebastian’s hand off him. Seb sat Fernando up and propped him against the headboard, plan forming in his head. There were more personal things he could take from Mark today: the icing on the cake. 

“I want you to help me celebrate.” Sebastian purred, brushing a hand under Fernando’s collar. Fernando batted it away, locking his eyes on Sebastian and pouting. 

“I want Mark.” 

“Mark is not here.” Seb said, just as bluntly as Fernando. Fernando folded his arms and frowned at the German. Seb rolled his eyes and picked up another glass of champagne. Fernando pushed it away when Seb offered it. 

“Is not Mark.” Fernando commented. Seb couldn’t help but smile. 

“It’s champagne. Winners get this.” Seb said, bringing it back to Fernando’s face.

“Am not the winner.”

“No, you’re not.” Fernando’s eyes narrowed. 

“Today. Am not the winner today.” He corrected.

“But I am.”

“This is why you have the champagne.” Seb grew bored quickly of Fernando’s stupid statements. He straddled the Spaniard’s hips and pressed his free hand into the wall beside Fernando’s head. 

“Drink it.” Seb ordered. Fernando shook his head. “I won’t let you go until you do. The more you defy me the worse this gets.” Holding Seb’s gaze, Fernando took the glass in both of his hands and began drinking it. Seb had filled the glass almost to the top. He lent back from Fernando and took another photo of him, just saving it and waiting for the opportune moment to send it to Mark. Fernando wanted to sleep. He lent back as Seb took the glass of him and closed his eyes. The text tone from his phone made him open his eyes. Seb was smiling down at the little screen. Fernando reached out to take his phone but Seb held it out of his grasp. 

“‘Fernando, where the fuck are you?’” Seb read. “Aww, three kisses.” He mocked and Fernando blushed, looking down. 

“Leave him out of this.” Fernando muttered but Sebastian just laughed at him. Sebastian couldn’t leave Mark out of this because it was all about him. As the weight transferred down the bed, Fernando looked up to see Seb leaning close to him. 

“Three kisses… I’ll do the honours.” Seb purred. The German pressed his lips gently on Fernando’s cheek, pinning his arms to his sides. He lent back and looked in Fernando’s eyes. “One.” He muttered and Fernando swallowed nervously, squirming in his grip. There was no room for escape and Seb’s lips came down on the other side of his face, just below his ear. “Two.” Fernando felt his eyes roll closed but he tried to force them to stay open. Too much was happening and he needed to stay focused. He needed to get away from Seb. Where he would go was another question (in his drunken state and the pleasure Sebastian was trying to inflict on him, Mark had been wiped cleanly from his mind). Seb used his knees to hold Fernando’s arms in place as he held his face. Panic set in Fernando’s eyes and Seb pressed their lips together. Fernando couldn’t focus. He didn’t know anymore what he was supposed to want and not want. What was happening or why it was. He couldn’t place anything and he hated it. The sickening feeling tingled in his stomach. “Three.” Sebastian hummed, breaking apart from Fernando and pushing a hand into his hair. Fernando sighed as he played with the same strands Mark always seemed to find. 

Mark.

Fernando pushed himself upwards in an attempt to leave. Sebastian seemed to always be four steps ahead of him and before the room stopped swaying he was being pushed into the mattress on his stomach. Fernando pushed up with his arms as Seb snaked his hand round his hips, pushing it unceremoniously into his trousers. He hissed as Seb grabbed hold of his cock, collapsing back into the mattress and trapping Sebastian’s hand. He toyed with Fernando’s tip until he heard a stifled moan briefly escape his lips. 

“Such a little whore.” Seb cooed, pushing his hips shamelessly into Fernando, letting him feel his errection. Fernando tried to squirm away but the need to know why and the reasons behind being repulsed by these movements were vacant from his head; he wanted to leave but he couldn’t remember why. Seb nipped at Fernando’s ear before brushing his tongue down his neck. He relented, just holding Fernando’s cock in his hand, as he sent the photo of Fernando drinking champagne to Mark with the caption: Only for winners ;). He knew Mark would know exactly where he was now and knew he had limited time. He played with himself for a moment but the anticipation of what he was about to do to Mark made his job quick. 

“What would he say if he saw you here… Lying underneath me, shamelessly begging.” Seb said and Fernando tried to create friction between himself and Seb’s hand. Fernando couldn’t pull on whom he might be talking about; his mind only focused on the potential pleasure and the alcohol wiping everything else from his head. Seb let out a breathy laugh in Fernando’s ear. “You’re so bad. I can’t see why he would want you.” His tone was sending blood straight between Fernando’s legs. The pleasure was outlawing everything. He couldn’t help himself. 

“Please…” He moaned, rocking back into Seb. Roughly, his trousers and boxers were pulled down his legs to his knees leaving him uncomfortably exposed. Sebastian caressed his bare arse before leaving a burning red handprint on it and gaining a gasp from the Spaniard. He smiled. 

“Do you like it when he does that?” Sebastian asked, slapping him again. Fernando whimpered slightly. 

“Please…”

“You’re so pathetic. So easy.” Sebastian said running his hand up and down Fernando cock and gaining more moans of pleasure with a sigh of relief. “No wonder I can win so simply.” 

The phone buzzed beside Seb and he picked it up, glad he had turned it on silent. He read Mark’s text with a smile. 

Lay one finger on him and you’re dead.

Seb pressed his finger into the pre-cum at Fernando’s slit and absorbed the cried it evoked from the man between his legs. Time was running short. He took a picture of the handprint of Fernando’s arse and sent it to Mark. 

Oopsy. 

Pushing the phone back in Fernando’s pocket, Seb undid his own trousers and released his throbbing member. With out warning or preparation, he pushed himself roughly into Fernando’s hole and felt his cry vibrate through his body. The Spaniard’s hips shamelessly thrust towards him and released his second hand. Without preparation and stretching, Fernando was tight and Seb found himself moaning in pleasure. He made sure he was loud enough to be heard through the door. Loud enough for when Mark ended up on their floor. He kept his thrusts long and slow until both of them were begging for more friction. As Seb began to pick up the pace there were three sharp bangs on the door. Seb smiled as he deliberately moaned louder, eyes focused on the white wood across the room. The pounding on the door came again but this time it caught Fernando’s attention. Seb held his head down on the mattress to muffle his voice so he couldn’t call out. More sharp pounds on the door.

“Fuck! Fernando! Ahh! So good!” Seb yelled, thrusting deeper into the Spaniard. Fernando said something but his words were muffled into the fabric below him. The pounding on the door became continuous. 

“Seb! Open this fucking door right now! I fucking swear I will kill you!” Mark yelled through the door. Fernando stirred at his voice, the accent he could recognise. Sebastian could feel he was close to his climax now and pulled out of Fernando, rolling him over. He clamped his mouth onto Fernando hip bones and sucked roughly on the skin that lay there. A moan escaped from Fernando’s mouth before he could stop it. Sebastian was leaving his mark so Mark could always remember, even when it had faded. 

“Mark!” Fernando screamed, trying to pull from Sebastian’s hold. It was too late. Much too late. Sebastian let go of his skin and finished himself off with his hand, pushing Fernando’s t-shirt up to decorate his stomach. He pulled his trousers up and shoved Fernando off the bed. Unceremoniously, Fernando crashed onto the floor. The room spun violently and he stomach lurched. He wanted to get out now. He wanted to get to Mark. The Australian’s voice was breaking. Fernando was becoming more desperate. He stood and headed across the room, shocked when he smashed straight into a wall. He pulled his own trousers up as he sunk into the floor; feeling like any other movement was useless. The room wouldn’t stay still and the sickening feeling was climbing in his throat. “Mark…” He called again, closing his eyes. 

“Fernando!” Mark replied but Fernando was sobbing. He felt horrible. He hated himself for what he had let happen. And now he couldn’t get out. He was stuck here. And he felt sick. He swallowed dryly but it didn’t shift the tightness in his throat. A hand grabbed his shoulder roughly and pulled him to his feet. Seb dragged him to the door selfishly, holding him back only just to mutter something in his ear. 

“I’ll let your boyfriend finish you off.” Seb purred, cupping Fernando’s still erect cock. The Spaniard gasped and his stomach lurched unpleasantly again. Seb’s laugh filled his ears but the door was opened and he was thrown into Mark’s arms, sending the Australian toppling backwards. The slam from behind him made Fernando shudder as he curled into Mark. Mark wrapped his arms around him and held him closer. 

“Am. So-Sorry. Mark. I. I… I did not- Mark. Am so sorry.” Fernando gasped as Mark clutched him tighter. He couldn’t find it in his heart to blame Fernando. Yes, if Fernando hadn’t have got himself stupidly drunk this wouldn’t have happened but Jenson had promised to get him back in one piece. And Sebastian had taken advantage of the situation to take something else from Mark. Mark felt his jaw lock at that thought. Just something else Seb though he had a right to today. He took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Fernando. This wasn’t his fault. Mark would never blame him. 

“Shh. It’s alright, Fernando. I know. I understand. This isn’t your fault.” Mark cooed, rubbing circles on his back.

“It is… If I-”

“-No. Don’t blame yourself. He took advantage of you. Just… It’s not your fault.”

“If I had not-”

“-Fernando.” Mark said, gripping his shoulder. The Spaniard looked up at him, blotchy eyes beaming sadly. “Please don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you.” Mark kissed his temple gently and sat them up. He watched Fernando carefully as he swayed slightly, the little colour that was left in his face disappearing. “Are you OK?” Mark asked with a worried tone. Fernando shook his head slowly. Mark pulled him to his feet and gingerly ushered him down to his room. They took the flight of stairs as fast as they could and just as Mark opened the door Fernando ran into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet. 

Mark shut the door with a soft click and forced all thoughts of how much he was going to kill Sebastian from his head. He had to think about Fernando; he needed looking after now. Mark padded over to the bathroom and was shock to find the door was closed. He turned the handle but the door did not budge; it was locked. Mark frowned as he jiggled the handle but the door still did not budge. He knocked lightly. 

“Fernando?”

“Am fine.” Fernando called back in a weak tone. Mark sighed, pressing one hand into the wood. 

“Can you open this door please.” Mark asked, already knowing he was going to get protest.

“Am fine, Mark. You do not-” There was a pause in Fernando’s speech as Mark hear him retch again. The toilet was flushed and Mark’s grip on the handle tightened. “-Do not need to worry.” Fernando finished in a defeated voice. 

“Let me help you.” Mark muttered with his forehead pressed to the door.

“I need to…” Fernando didn’t have the heart to finish his sentence. He dropped the hem of his shirt, covering the mess that had been painted onto his torso he had been looking at. He sighed clamping his hands on the edge of the sink, looking down. “… Clean up.” His throat was dry and he had to force his words out. From the other side of the door Mark was surprised that he hadn’t broken the handle clean off the door yet with the pressure he was inducing on it. He took a deep breath to calm himself. His hatred was at Sebastian, not Fernando. 

“Let me help you.” Mark replied a little more sternly. He felt the lock slide away through the vibrations in the handle and opened the door. Fernando had his back to him, pushed into the corner of the room. Mark took a gentle hold of his wrist and pulled him towards the sink. Fernando still refused to look at him. As Mark placed a hand soothingly on the point of his hip Sebastian had attacked Fernando fell back into the corner, stumbling slightly and ending up sitting on the floor. The Spaniard shook his head slightly. 

Mark needed to see what Sebastian had done. He needed to know exactly what he had done to Fernando so he could set it right. Fernando was so fragile at the moment his hatred for Sebastian tripled. If Christian thought they could sit in a room and sort this he was wrong; nothing would ever sort this. Sebastian had crossed some invisible line that made all of his actions unforgivable. Mark moved over to Fernando and brushed his cheek softly. Slowly, he got the Spaniard back on his feet and standing in front of Mark facing the mirror. Mark took hold of the bottom hem of Fernando’s shirt and Fernando closed his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Mark… Please…” Fernando begged. He was too disappointed in himself. He never wanted Mark to see what had happened. But Mark wanted to know. 

“We’re doing this together.” Mark said firmly as he pulled Fernando’s shirt above his head. Fernando’s eyes fixed themselves to Mark’s face in the mirror in front of him, waiting to see the look of disgust crossed his features. Mark tried to hide it but he knew Fernando had seen it too clearly. Mark hated it. He hated seeing the messy splatter of cum and know it wasn’t his. Know some other man had marked the precious stomach of his lover. Mark wet a flannel and stood in front of Fernando, blocking his reflection in the mirror. He delicately wiped away the evidence of what Sebastian had done but as he did his eyes found the deep, bruise-like mark on Fernando’s hip. He couldn’t stop himself scoffing in disbelief. Fernando shrunk into himself, hating this. 

Once Fernando’s stomach was clean, Mark placed chaste kisses from his navel up to his neck. Fernando didn’t know what to do. He wanted to pull Mark closer but he felt he didn’t deserve it. Mark moved behind him again and deliberately placed a hand on the mark at his hip. He placed a gentle kiss into the curve of his neck. 

“Erm… Did he…?” Mark asked awkwardly, still holding the damp cloth in his hand. Fernando saw him indicate downwards with his eyes and Fernando shook his head. He knew Sebastian had not made him reach his own climax and he knew there had been no use of lube. Nothing else to clean up. Just memories that would not be tarnished. Mark took Fernando’s hand and led him to the bedroom. He let him lie on his back and get comfortable as he collected him some pyjamas – trying desperately to ignore Fernando’s gasp of pain as he adjusted his weight on his arse. Mark changed himself and helped Fernando before turning out the lights and climbing into bed beside him. Fernando moulded his body to Mark’s. The soothing circles Mark plugged into Fernando’s back made him drowsy instantaneously. 

Mark, however, was nowhere near the verge of sleep. His anger at Jenson and Sebastian burning through him now he had Fernando safely tucked under his arm. The only thing stopping him leaving the Spaniard to give them a piece of his mind was the horrific mental image of returning to Fernando having choked on his own vomit. He pulled him a little closer as the mental image threatened to fill his head. He replaced it with angry thoughts of Sebastian. Echoes of ‘how dare he!” spun around his head and that somehow pulled him back to Jenson. Jenson had promised to take care of Fernando and he had let Mark down. The Australian collected his phone from the bedside table and sent the Brit a text. Sebastian’s ear bashing could wait until he was within punching distance. 

Thanks a fucking lot. Great care you took of him. Do all of your promises mean nothing? 

Mark knew he would probably regret that in the morning but right now it felt good to be venting some of his frustration on people who deserved it. It had been such a shitty day. 

~End~

\- - - - -

FOLLOW ON/PROLOGUE FOR: "Broken Hotel Rooms" 

Fernando couldn’t close his eyes; the horrific memories of being trapped in Sebastian’s room would fill his mind, make him relive it. Opening them made the room sway slightly and he didn’t like that either. He still felt dazed and the horrible after tang taste in his mouth was making it no easier to forget what had happened. Nausea flooded through Fernando’s system as the repulsive images of Seb spraying himself over him filled his mind. His grip tightening on Mark’s shirt until Fernando knew that he couldn’t prevent the inevitable. Ripping his eyes open, he sprung from Mark’s hold and into the bathroom, heaving into the toilet again. 

Mark sighed and got up to go and help him out, be supportive. He probably made four steps towards Fernando before someone hammered desperately on the door. Mark frowned at it before consulting his watch: quarter-past three in the morning. Who the hell could want him at this time? His mind fell to a certain German guy and his fists clenched as he crossed to the door. He was wrong. It wasn’t Seb but instead a dishevelled looking Jenson. Mark made to shut the door in his face. 

“No, wait!” Jenson pleaded, stopping the door with his palm.

“You know how much of a mess you have made? I don’t want to fucking speak to you, stay the fuck away from us.” Mark spat, going to close the door again. Jenson dove into the room, panic pressed into his features. “Get out.” Mark growled. Jenson shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

“Have you seen Nico?” Jenson asked. “Nico Rosberg?” Mark was perplexed. What the fuck did Nico Rosberg have to do with anything?

“Nico?”

“I haven’t seen him since the race. He won’t answer his phone…” Jenson sighed, knowing it was only a matter of time before Mark realised why Jenson had such a keen interest in Nico’s whereabouts. When Mark continued to look at him blankly he sighed, adding: “I’m worried about him.” The realisation crashed through Mark. His anger ebbed away. 

“Not since the race.” Mark admitted sadly. Jenson looked crestfallen. “But he’s probably just stuck with Mercedes stuff, I wouldn’t worry.” Mark offered. It didn’t help. Jenson began to hyperventilate. Fernando hovered in the bathroom doorway with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Mark held Jenson’s shoulders and spoke directly to his eyes. 

“It’s alright Jenson. Don’t panic. Just tell me what’s going on.”


End file.
